No one really expects the death of a colleague. Even just writing that ‘d’ word feels surreal enough for me not to write it twice. Around this time last year, we tragically lost someone at Dark Horses.

Lucie was 28. She was one of our designers and a brilliantly talented, enthusiastic, sunflower of joy with a wickedly infectious laugh. She’d been diagnosed with breast cancer 18 months beforehand, going through various bouts of treatment and periods of remission in that time.

A year on and it still doesn’t feel real.

Reflecting on that period of time, there really is no rule book or best practice to follow because bereavement is so different for everyone. We had an immediate duty of care to everyone at Dark Horses to make sure they were dealing with the situation as best they could, offering counselling and mental health support for all, which we continue to do.

Whilst you want to ensure everyone in the agency is doing ok and handling things, it’s tricky because no matter how fantastic a boss you think you might be, you’ll never know the nuances of everyone’s relationships. Some people had worked really closely with Lucie, others not so much, mainly due to the sheer randomness of who works on what and when, even in an agency of just 40 people.

For some there was a numbness of the loss of someone they sort of knew, for others there was the devastation of losing one of their work-besties. Some people wanted to talk through their mourning, share stories, laugh together at funny memories and just say how much they’re going to miss her, others just wanted to keep their feelings to themselves and get on with things.

As well as having an eye on everyone else, there’s also your own grief and its various stages to deal with. The shock of it is something you never really get over, but the feeling of guilt was, and still is, by far the most prevalent. 

Looking back, it was caused mainly by the inevitable continuation of business as usual. Making work, getting excited by great ideas, servicing clients, addressing feedback, even the tedious kind, and all with a gusto that although was feigned, was gusto nonetheless.

Then there was the stupid practical stuff we had to do. Like getting Lucie’s laptop back due to client confidentiality, as well as starting the process of hiring a new designer. These felt like pragmatic things you did when someone left for another agency and not the things you did to remember someone special.

But they needed to be done and in spite of advertising never feeling more futile to a lot of us at that time, you carry on.

This all led to the feeling of not grieving enough. There was a strange paradox of being reminded of Lucie at work, but also using work as a means of distraction. It was at home where the grief caught up with me, with the swelling empathy any parent would feel looking at their own children and imagining how Lucie’s family and friends were doing.

Everyone wants to remember people in their own way, and we felt we wanted to do something that represented her and us. So, as we approach the anniversary of Lucie’s passing, we’re going to celebrate and honour Lucie’s memory in a way she would have really enjoyed. Nothing saccharine, or forced, just a bit of a physical challenge and a few beers at the end.

The ‘Tour de Luce’ is a cycling, running and walking challenge that Lucie’s husband created a few years ago while Lucie was still with us. All in aid of Guys Cancer Charity, who supported Lucie through her treatment, this year’s event involves doing laps of Richmond Park until you can’t do any more.

This year a group of us from Dark Horses got involved, some attempting to cycle 200km, others walking a few kilometres. It’s about the power of the collective, rather than any individual feats of heroism. Together we collectively cycled over 2,200km and have raised over £10,400 from the event.

What made it an extra special occasion, is that the jerseys we wore were designed by Lucie herself. She was so organised and diligent that she created design updates for future Tour de Luce’s, so we were proud to wear her work as we suffered in aid of a great cause.

I think she would have been proud of that.

To donate to the challenge please click here.